Munch tales...

I love lunch at my workplace. Its almost always a dilemma deciding where to eat and once that is decided, is the question of what all to eat (because there are so many choices!). When you do decide all that though, you are ready to have some goooooooood food!

Take today, for example.

I began with a nice hot "hearty vegetable soup".

Then I had some delicious "wild mushroom ricosto rice"... I loved this, the way ricosto rice is made makes it a little wet and a little sticky and you can take my word for it, its very nice...

This was followed by "fried eggplant" with a peculiar looking green paste, almost like the dosa chutney you get in south Indian restaurants.

Hmm... a little of this and that, don't remember now...

A "fresh fruit salad"... pretty good...

And wound up the whole deal with a "blackberry cheese cake"... well, only ate half of this though... Halfway through it I was reminded of all the hard work I have been putting in at the gym :-|

So yeah, that kinda stopped the joyride and I trudged my way back to my office, reflecting on a job well done!

Wodehouse magic

I was a little disappointed with the first few pages of P.G. Wodehouse's "Carry on, Jeeves!". Nothing much happening in the first few pages and a good deal of lines were devoted to explaining how he came about to work for the author. By the end of the tenth page, however, Wodehouse had started weaving his magic around me... In simple words and casual conversations, I was being introduced to the wits of the amazing Jeeves... I couldn't stop laughing at the way he says "Very good, sir!" at the most solemn and unexpected occasions... It is the ability to the treat the reader to something he doesn't expect at a time he isn't ready... while retaining both men in character, that makes this so amazing to read...

Sample these:

On hearing about the author's broken engagement to Florence and showing no sympathy for the same:

"You're sacked!"
"Very good, sir."
He coughed gently.
"...(long discourse of fatherly advice)... You would not have been happy, sir!."
"Get out!"
"...(discourse continues)...You would not enjoy Nietzsche, sir... He is fundamentally unsound..."
"Get out!"
"Very good, sir."

By this time, I was pausing between laughs, careful not to finish the moment too soon and to savor it as much as I could :P If there was any doubt that Wodehouse had me totally enthralled in his piece of work by now, he sealed the deal with the end of the first chapter:

On hearing from Jeeves that his choice of the suit was not 'suit'-able (pun mine :P) and asking him to give it away to someone:

He looked down at me like a father gazing tenderly at the wayward child.
'Thank you, sir. I gave it to the under-gardener last night. A little more tea, sir?'

And I became a Wodehouse fan. Just like that. So much so that I couldn't stop reading it. Work life gives us few moments of our own, add to that my varied interests like salsa and badminton and the picture looks grim. But I couldn't put the book down. I started reading it at breakfast in the morning... And took it to my trip on the long weekend... Moments in the line for baggage claim, I discovered, are better utilized with Wodehouse in your hand and Starbucks is more fun with you imagining the server to be a likeness of Jeeves.

Wodehouse, to conclude, is pure magic... Read it if you get a chance!

A visitor...

We had a visitor at our house today. In fact, he is sitting right next to me as I write this. When A went out for doing his laundry today, this black and white visitor entered the house as if it was his long lost home. After taking a general look around the house, he decided to settle down on the sofa. When we tried to move him away from the sofa, for fear that he would spoil it, he looked at us indignantly, as if to say "Is this more important than me and my comfort?".

With time, he went around for another look around the house. Its been just 15 minutes, but he already feels like he owns the house. He has already rejected the bowl of milk that we put out for him, thinking he was hungry. He made some mild attempts at PR by rubbing his head against my hand and my laptop. And then spent a few thoughtful moments looking at my search attempts to find what to do with stray cats. We concluded that Bay area cats have the general air of "been there done that" when it comes to the internet. He seems currently occupied with exploring how my jacket feels, because thats a bit warmer than the sofa and the laptop.

After trying unsuccessfully to involve A in a friendly discourse, he has now returned back to take his place beside me, purring slowly and closing his eyes to evoke sympathy and clearly asking for more choice delicacies than cold milk.

Let me see what I can find!

Ruben's tube

This is freaking awesome!



(Read more about Ruben's tube here)

Burning inside...

Can you hear it?
Like a tree on fire
Rumbling and falling
I am burning inside...

Can you feel it?
Like a heart set on desire
Breaking and shaking
I am burning inside...

Can you cure it? Make this pain go away?
Like a thirsty fool in a mirage
Wincing and pining
I am burning inside...

Like a forest fire... silently spreading
To places inside me... I have been fearing...
Moment after moment... an eternity of dying...
Till there's nothing left but ashes simmering...
Telling a story of a heart...
That was burning inside!

-deep
(to be modified)
Monday, Nov 27 2006, 2.30-3.08 pm

A poem I just wrote...

Ever remember
When we were kids
How we would play
A game of cards?
And hold those pieces
Close to our hearts
Lest we reveal
To surreptitious glances
All that we had
And worse still....
All that we didn't!

That one moment, dreaded and cold,
When people know
The cards that you hold
And their eyes glow
With the hint of knowing
That you 'll never win
You sat there defeated
Even before
A single card was played
And wished it was all over...
Wished for a new game!

That was years ago...
We were just kids...
But now the cards are real
We hold them everyday
Closer and closer to our hearts
And go out into the world
Hoping no one will see
A card that will defeat you
Before you have had a chance to play...

Cos the stakes are higher
Its not a game anymore
No matter what the cards,
A new game there won't be...
The cards won't be dealt again,
These are the cards,
You have to play with...
This is the game
that you have to win...

-deep
Thursday, 2 Nov, 2006
1.25-1.40 pm

It's a cat's life...

After laughing at these pictures for almost half a day, I think it's time to stop being selfish and share these scary cats with you.

Here are the rest:
(I can't stop laughing at these... they are too funny)

http://shadowdane.shackspace.com/cats.htm

http://www.acc.umu.se/~zqad/cats/index.html?large=yes&flow=yes

Watch out for the gangsta' cat and the invisible sandwich.

(Disclaimer: some pictures may offend...)

Diwali pics...

We celebrated Diwali at Google this year by lighting a thousand and five hundred candles around the campus in the evening. It was a great sight, and my friend B took pictures of the event. B happens to be American, and so it was quite amazing that he remembered to get his camera on this day and took pictures of the decorations. He told me his camera has a candlelight exposure mode, which perhaps explains why the pictures look so good.

Happy Diwali to all of you!

Missing Riverbend...

Where is Riverbend? I have been missing a post from her for some time now. I hope she is safe. She has not posted on her blog since 5th August now, and she generally posts within 10-15 days.

For the uninitiated, Riverbend is a girl from Baghdad who has documented her life in war-torn Baghdad for the past few years. Her blog has received worldwide attention, many supporters and a large number of detractors. Her blog reminds me of Anne Frank's diary, it is written in similarly simple language, and provides a window into the life of someone living the horror that is Baghdad today. (She writes (understandably) anonymously, and nobody knows the actual person or her real name. Some people claim that she is not real, but after reading her posts for more than an year, I am inclined to believe otherwise.)

Her blog has also been made into a book called "Baghdad Burning". I would recommend it as a very thought provoking read.


Blog:
http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/

Feminist Press:
http://www.feministpress.org/Book/index.cfm?GCOI=55861100869560

Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Baghdad-Burning-Girl-Blog-Iraq/dp/1558614893/sr=1-1/qid=1160125501/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-3447117-0171120?ie=UTF8&s=books

Was it a coincidence that her last post was titled "Summer of Goodbyes"? I pray to God that it is. That it wasn't a hidden message. That she will come back.

The coolest man alive!

He was answering a question for a million dollars. No person had ever won it before. And what does he do? Check it out!



How cool is that?!!!

So true...

I read something that made me laugh today... just one line actually but very funny at that:

Mom spent the first 2 years of her life teaching me to walk and talk and the next 18 telling me to sit down and shut-up...

So true!

PS: I have been told to notify people that I am not going to be writing seriously for another two weeks at least. But yeah, tiny bits of wisdom like this may find their way onto the blog :P

Some lines I just wrote...

I loved you for all things right and wrong
Wish some of those had been true
I loved my perception of an ideal form
Wish I had loved the real you

And when that truth had dawned on me
An eternity of love was gone
Yet the grief was not for the broken heart
'Twas for the death of a love never born...

-Deep
10 Aug 06, 5.55 -6.06 pm

Everyone needs a family...

This is one of the most beautiful photos I have ever seen... and it just hits you right inside...

Some humor

I have been a bit busy lately, but when I read this joke today and fell off the chair laughing, I knew I had to share this one!

A little girl and her mother were shopping. The girl asks her mother, "How old are you?"
Mommy says, "Honey, women don't talk about their age, you'll learn later on in life."
The girl then asks, "Mommy. How much do you weigh?"
Mommy says, "That's another thing women don't talk about, you'll find out when you are grown up."
The girl still wanting to know about her mother asks, "Mommy, why did you and daddy get a divorce?"
Mommy says, "Honey, that is a subject that hurt me very much, and I don't want to talk about it now."
The little girl is frustrated. She tells her girlfriend about her and her mother's conversation.
The girlfriend says, "All you have to do is sneak a look at your mother's drivers license. It's just like a report card, it tells you everything."
The little girl and her mother are shopping again. The girl says, "Mommy, I know how old you are. You are 32 years old."
Mommy is very shocked! She asks "Sweetheart how did you do that?"
The girl shrugs and says, "I just know, and I know how much you weigh. You weigh 120 pounds."
The mother is flabbergasted. She asks, "Where did you learn that?"
The little girl says, "I just know, that's all, and I know why you and daddy got a divorce. You got an 'F' in sex."

We are God's hands...

I was discussing with R yesterday about how the people of Mumbai help each other in times of despair. She felt that the help was only out of helplessness, and not really from the heart. For some reason I agreed at that moment, since she is from Mumbai and she knows more. But thinking about it later, I felt, the kind of help that poured in after the attacks, can only come from the heart. You don't go to the hospital to donate blood inspite of having noone there, just out of helplessness. It comes from the heart.

I have many friends from Mumbai, and me being from Pune, I always have legendary debates pitching them against each other. It happened when I was in India and it continues even when we are here in the US. The Mumbaikars are a lot who are so proud of their city that they will concede to noone and cannot tolerate a single bad word about their city :) Yesterday I was thinking, in events like this, you can see why people love their city so much. The spirit of humanity is very much alive in Mumbai. And noone can break that.

I remembered a song by Jewel when I saw thousands of hands helping strangers on the streets and on the railway stations. This is a song which I had forgotten about, and not listened to for almost two years. But yesterday, just like that, it came back to me, and it rings so true for the everyday heroes who are God's hands in Mumbai today.

I am sharing the lyrics for "Hands" by Jewel below. See if you can get the song, its really wonderful to listen to.

Hands

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear
My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
Poverty stole your golden shoes
It didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn't ever after
We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing
My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
I am never broken
In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's mind
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's eyes
We are God's hands
We are God's hands

-from Jewel's song "Hands"

Update: I found two videos for this song, and am sharing them here(Isn't YouTube amazing?!!) The first is the actual video for the song and the second is a live performance by Jewel. The original video is really beautiful.

Note: Use IE7 or Firefox to view the video. It seems the video does not play in IE6 (thanks for pointing this out, Aseem)

Original:




Stage Performance:

Another Zidane??!!!

After some time spent in solemn thinking yesterday, the world is seeing the funny side of yesterday's head-butting event by Zidane. Heres a really funny video sent to me by my friend Sandy, with the title "Another Zidane"!! I almost fell down the chair laughing at this one!!

Update: I had uploaded this video on YouTube and enabled comments. One of the commenters called FraChan seems to have a good explanation for the goalkeepers sudden temper-flash! :P

I guess it went like this: THe goalkeeper's team had to score and the time was running out (92"), the player of the red/orange team was in offside but shot anyway to waste time, so the goalkeeper tries to kill him.
The ref, shows the yellow card to the player and I guess it was the second one because he was sent off.
Only yellow card for the goalie"

Why?

Why is it that we must often see our greatest heroes fall? The most divine talent is so often accompanied by a tragedic ending... and so someone like Sir Don Bradman, who just needs 4 runs in the last match of his life to have an aggregate of 100, scores a duck and walks home... his dignity and pride intact, not a feather taken away from his cap, but yet... there is that elusive feeling of pain... of why things couldn't be as they ought to have been...

In a slightly different context, we felt the same pain when Klusner brought South Africa this close to the cricket world cup final in 98-99 but threw it away for just one run. Or in the famous Chennai test with Pakistan, when Sachin got us within 15 runs of the target, only to watch the match being lost in despair...

And today we feel the same pain again. Of the unexpectedly abrupt departure of Zinedine Zidane...With the only difference being that unlike the others, Zidane could have avoided what happened. What happened to you, Zizou? Till then I was marvelling at the guts of this man, the way he had played... The way he scored that penalty in the 7th minute was unbelievable... who takes such a risk in the World Cup finals, with a billion people watching, and in what will be remembered as his last game forever? The way he went for the gentle scoop in that penalty just shows the kind of confidence he has in his own abilities...

So then, what happened? Zizou gets angry over something and one moment of lapse leads to, arguably, a change in the fortunes of two nations. I am not saying that Italy would not have won otherwise, but Zidane just made it easier for them. And I am sure the whole of France wants to ask him one burning question... why, Zizou, why?

The end of roomism...

This weekend I moved to a new place. It marks the end of almost two years of my stay with J and K. Will miss you both, guyz. N maybe you guyz will miss me too :) since I spent more time in your room than in mine.

We spent some good times together... amazingly brilliant discussions... amazingly stupid questions... it was all there... watching House Md like crazy maniacs, watching Two and a Half Men and laughing more than required... fun times... good times... old times...

Nothing more to say except... thanks for everything, guyz...

A dilemma...

Here is a poem I wrote when I was 16. I wonder if this poem makes sense now, as it did then. It is about the meaningless superstitions in the remoter parts of India.

A Dilemma

With curious feet and anxious eyes
I roam today outside my city
How different a world here lies!
Just fifty miles away from vanity.

A world where people are just like me
And yet so clear and pure and candid
That rural affection with affinity
Contrasts with urban richness sordid

A world where people love to love
And keep it simple, beyond words
Who long to see my urban friends
And show them their proud herds

So nice a world is but so torn
In harmful, meaningless superstition
The agony of girls so young, wedded,
Gives utmost pain to my heart and vision!

But do I have the power to improve
This mass of simple, stubborn men?
Who love me from the bottom of their soul
But hate my black-inked pen!

The dilemma is - the good, the bad
Refuse to leave each other
Improved - they lose the purity they had
If not - they remain stagnised forever.

-deep

Rules of thumb...

I would like to share this cool article by Matt Cutts on Rules of Thumb. Even if you are not in software, the rest of the rules still make this a very good read.

And oh, several people have offered many more rules in the comments section. Some of them are practical, some hilarious... dont miss any!